


The Rainstorm

by BrownBerry



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M, Shirbert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 13:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16934187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrownBerry/pseuds/BrownBerry
Summary: Gilbert is walking home late from school when it starts to rain. Passing the shack, he realizes someone is inside and goes to investigate. Of course, it’s Anne. Of course, some things start to happen.





	The Rainstorm

**Author's Note:**

> A first draft- I hope to tinker with it and add more.

Anne and Gilbert   
The Rainstorm 

Trudging through the blustery woods, Gilbert Blythe felt a single raindrop land on his pale cheek. As a brisk wind tousled his dark curls, he gazed up into the gray sky, clouds gathering to drench Avonlea in an autumnal storm. Gilbert held out his hand, catching drops in his palm with a smile, his teeth shining bright against the dreary backdrop. Securing his scarf at his coat collar and tugging his cap down low, he hiked his school bag higher onto his shoulder and continued on towards home.   
Wandering deeper into the thick of the forest, Gilbert reviewed the day in his mind. Ms. Stacey had been so good to stay a few extra minutes after school though it had prolonged her journey home. He greatly enjoyed their discussions and her genuine interest in his dream of becoming a doctor. Anne would be jealous if she knew he spoke with Ms. Stacey after school now as well. Gilbert smiled with a shake of his head.  
He walked a little further along before something caught his eye- the shack- small and secluded and usually empty was strangely alive. A warm glow played off a newly fashioned curtain hanging in the window. Woodsmoke curled delicately from the rusted chimney. As he walked closer, Gilbert heard only the raindrops falling heavily onto crisp leaves. Quiet as a mouse, he gently lifted the curtain aside.  
She sat perched on a tree stump in front of a small fire, hunched over a writing pad, pen in hand. Two red braids peeked out from beneath her grey knitted hat.  
“Anne,” he breathed. Anne jumped and whirled around, her lightning blue eyes flashing.  
“Gilbert,” she choked, standing quickly. Her harried movement knocked over a large pine cone and they both watched it roll right out the doorway. Gilbert felt a smile tugging at his face, relishing in her surprise.   
“Hi,” he replied with a chuckle. He stood there a moment, rain soaking his collar as Anne collected her thoughts.  
“Sorry,” she stammered. “Come in.” Gilbert replaced the curtain at the window and Anne held a larger curtain aside for him. Stooping into the shack, he picked up the pine cone and set it atop a pile of books. Anne stood by, her eyes darting between Gilbert’s and the floor.  
Out of the rain, the shack was dry and comfortable but the warmth Gilbert felt in the pit of his stomach had nothing to do with the fire. He looked around- books, feathers, drawings and seashells were all bathed in a soft yellow light. At the center, Anne looked like a goddess or fairy queen surrounded by golden treasures.  
“This is great,” Gilbert said, removing his cap and running a hand through his wet hair.  
Anne kept her pad and pen behind her back as she motioned for him to sit on a second tree stump. They sat, the silence filled with the pounding rain and crackling fire.  
“I hope I didn't disturb you,” Gilbert said, hanging his hat near the fire.   
“Not at all,” Anne stammered, reaching for the box in which she, Diana, and Ruby kept safe all their wonderful stories. “I often have unexpected guests.”  
“Unwanted guests?” Gilbert asked. Anne looked up from the box and smiled.  
“Never.”  
Gilbert watched her a moment as Anne rearranged some papers in the box.  
“What's all this?”   
“Oh,” Anne stammered, suddenly embarrassed of her tragical and romantic works. “I-  
“Sorry,” he said, holding his hands up. “None of my business.”  
“No, it's just, it's not quite finished yet.”  
“Hmm,” Gilbert nodded. “It's a story?”   
Anne gulped, “It’s about Avonlea.”   
“Am I in it?” He ventured, sitting forward, propping his elbows on his knees.  
“Um,” Anne struggled.  
“Just joking.” Gilbert added. “Maybe I'll have the honor of reading it one day.”  
“Maybe,” giggled Anne as she stowed the story box away, a nervous smile playing on her lovely lips.   
Gilbert watched Anne bend down as she went searching in her basket- her narrow frame moving like water beneath her pine green dress, coat, and dark stockings. His face grew warm and he brought his hand to his mouth, quietly wondering if the glorious freckles adorning Anne's face also covered the rest of her. Anne suddenly turned and Gilbert touched his neck, mortified. In her hands were two small strawberry tarts.  
“You should have someone's trusted opinion before sending it on to a publishing house,” said Gilbert, sitting up straight again.  
“A publishing house!” Anne cried, twirling once, looking wistfully at the ceiling.  
“Wouldn't it be wonderful to be a celebrated author?  
“You’d be celebrated alright.”   
“I suppose I could be one,” she said seriously, holding out a tart to him, “In addition to teaching.”  
Gilbert stood and took the offered tart, brushing his fingers against her open hand. He watched her fingers curl into her palm at his touch. She cast her eyes downward, her cheeks reddening, and Gilbert was almost sorry as the same warm feeling pooled in his stomach and made his legs weak.   
In the light, Anne's braids were like shocks of fire and he remembered how soft, like corn silk, just one had felt in his hand as he tugged on it so foolishly over two years ago. He felt a pang of remorse and knew if he earned the chance now, he would touch Anne with all the gentleness in the world, as she had always deserved.  
Anne looked up at him and Gilbert was shaken out of his reverie. Her blue eyes shone as bright as sea glass in the sun.   
“Oh!” Anne gasped, taking the tart back and setting both back in their cloth. “I have milk too.” She went to her basket.  
“Anne,” said Gilbert, reaching for her. He stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Too quickly, she spun around, losing her balance. Before he knew it, Gilbert had her in his grasp. His arms circling her waist, Anne felt exactly as Gilbert had imagined she would, bird-like yet strong. Her China blue eyes were wide with surprise and something else. Was it curiosity he saw there, feeling her fingers digging into his shoulders? She fit so perfectly with him, it was all Gilbert could do not to pin Anne to the wall with his body and envelope her.  
“You okay?” Gilbert murmured, staying gentle.   
Anne’s cheeks blushed a glorious pink and Gilbert felt his own face burn with need. His fingers lightly explored the texture of her coat, aching for the shape underneath. Anne gaped for words, which was quite fascinating to witness. Using all his strength, he resigned to set her steady on her feet.   
“Fine,” she whispered. She didn't let go, however, and Gilbert continued to hold her, his breath growing heavier as Anne gingerly moved her hand to rest on top of his shoulder. Swallowing hard, Gilbert reached up and took her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers. Anne reached for him and he tried not to tighten his grip too much on her. Delicate fingers landed lightly on his cheek, wiping away a raindrop. Gilbert’s eyes closed at the lullaby of her touch drawing a line down his jaw. He felt her lips and his eyes snapped open. Anne stopped.  
“Did I do something wrong?” She asked, her voice wavering. It took Gilbert a moment to keep his mind from reeling.  
“Felt right to me,” he choked. She had felt so soft, tasted so sweet. Gilbert felt as if he were being tied into a very tight knot and then suddenly set free with Anne's kiss.  
“I’m sure I could do better if I prac-   
But Anne had no time to finish her thought because Gilbert cradled her head in his hand, stopping her words, and kissed her deep and true. Unfrightened at his urgency, Anne's fingers wandered to wrap around Gilbert's ear and tenderly touched his curls. Eyes rolling in his head, Gilbert felt as though he was dying. With both arms he lifted Anne off the ground. Anne gasped in surprise, breaking their kiss to see Gilbert gazing darkly up at her.


End file.
